<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Tip To Remember by DemonPoxHerondale</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29180559">A Tip To Remember</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonPoxHerondale/pseuds/DemonPoxHerondale'>DemonPoxHerondale</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red White &amp; Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:08:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,348</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29180559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonPoxHerondale/pseuds/DemonPoxHerondale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Evie is working two jobs to put herself through college. She's perpetually exhausted, and just needs a break.</p><p>This is the story of a waitress who Henry meets at a little café in Brooklyn.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>149</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I got this idea from a conversation in the RWRB discord server and had to write it. This is much more centered around an OC than Alex and Henry, but they keep showing up in her life. Also, I have multiple chapters that I will post every day or two (but it can be read as a stand-alone). Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been a long day. Evie wants nothing more than for her shift to end so she can go home and get off her feet. It’s only 7:15, but she barely slept last night because she had to study for her midterm today, and she’s been going nearly nonstop since 6:00 AM when she arrived for her job at the grocery store. That doesn’t pay nearly enough for her to afford an apartment in Brooklyn, so she works nights at Myrna’s café. Between the two, she takes classes at Pratt, working toward a bachelor’s in photography. She’s got less than an hour left of her shift, but she’s honestly not sure how she’s going to make it. And even if she wants to collapse as soon as she gets home, she knows the homework has been piling up, and she needs to stay on top of it if she wants to hold onto the meager scholarship she has. She’s so exhausted that she’s messed up orders for two customers already, and she knows her boss is watching her closely. She’s seriously regretting not calling out sick. With a sigh, she plasters a smile on her face and approaches the man who just sat down at a small table by the window.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi, I’m Evie, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight,” she says. “Can I start you off with something to drink?” The man smiles up at her, and there’s something familiar about his face, but it’s not quite getting through the fog in her mind.</p><p> </p><p>“Lovely to meet you, Evie,” the man says. He has a British accent. “I’ll just have a tea, please.”</p><p> </p><p>Evie nods too many times. “Coming right up!” She heads for the kitchen, and as soon as she’s through the door her coworker, Beck, grabs her roughly by the arm.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god, Evie, can you believe this? This is amazing, this is so cool, he’s <em> here </em>, do you think he’d sign something for me?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Evie asks, pulling her arm free. “Who, my customer?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Who!? </em>Are you shitting me right now? Yes, your customer, the fucking Prince of England?”</p><p> </p><p>The words jolt through her like a burst of caffeine. She suddenly has no idea how she didn’t notice it immediately. Prince Henry. <em> Prince Henry </em>is in her little cafe in Brooklyn.</p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck,” Evie manages.</p><p> </p><p>“Precisely,” Beck agrees.</p><p> </p><p>“I need to get him tea,” Evie says, and Beck stares at her.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s all you have to say?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I can’t exactly keep him waiting, can I?”</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose not,” Beck says, and Evie nods again and walks over to the tea. Then she looks frantically back at Beck.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t ask him what kind of tea he wants!”</p><p> </p><p>Beck rolls her eyes. “You are a hot mess, Evie.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know! What do I do?” </p><p> </p><p>“First, you breathe. Then, you bring him a mug of hot water and selection of tea bag options. And then you get me an autograph.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not getting you an autograph. But yes, the tea. Okay. I can do that,” Evie says. Making a cup of tea has never felt so complicated or high pressure, and she’s literally not even making tea. She’s pouring water into a cup. And yet, she’s terrified of doing it wrong. Oh my god, what if she trips and spills boiling water all over a prince? Could she get assassinated for that? She closes her eyes and forces herself to take three deep breaths. She opens her eyes and picks up the teacup and saucer in one hand and the tea bag selection in the other, and makes her way back to Prince Henry’s table. Now that she is slightly more alert, she notices the other customers whispering and staring.</p><p> </p><p>Her hands are shaking slightly, and a bit of the water sloshes over the edge of the mug as she sets it down in front of him. Evie doesn’t think she’s ever been so embarrassed in her life, which is frankly ridiculous. </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” she mumbles, and then clears her throat. “Um, you didn’t mention what kind of tea you wanted, so I brought you all the options. Which isn’t your fault for not saying, I never asked, but anyway this is what we have, so just take whichever you’d prefer, and I’ll take the rest back.” Why is she rambling? Why is she incapable of normal speech?</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll have the Earl Grey,” Prince Henry says, and she gratefully hands it over and turns to leave. “Wait, Evie, can I order?” he says, and she thinks she might just die on the spot. This is entirely more than she can handle tonight, and she’s making such a tremendous fool of herself in front of a literal prince. She turns around.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, of course, sorry, Your Highness,” she stammers. “What would you like?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll have the French toast. And please, you can call me Henry.” If possible, Evie turns a darker shade of red. She nods, unable to form words, and practically runs for the kitchen. Beck is waiting for her.</p><p> </p><p>“I hate myself,” Evie says.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, honey.” Beck pats her arm reassuringly. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”</p><p> </p><p>“I spilled some water. Then rambled like an idiot. Then forgot to take his order and he had to remind me. So basically, I want to crawl into a hole and never come out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well hey, think of the story you’ll have after tonight,” Beck offers, which is true, but doesn’t really help right now. Evie enters Prince—no, just Henry’s order into the system. Then she remembers she has three other tables she’s been neglecting, so she has to go back out there. She very pointedly does not look at Henry as she checks in on the other customers. Soon enough, the French toast is ready, and Evie steels herself for another awkward interaction. He’s texting when she approaches, but he quickly puts his phone down to thank her for the food. Evie nods, and then she should probably just leave, but something possesses her to open her mouth again.</p><p> </p><p>“So what brings you to Brooklyn?” She immediately cringes at herself, but Henry just offers her a smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I don’t know how much you read the news, but I’m opening a shelter here for LGBTQ youth. So I’m here to work on that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right!” Evie says, much too loud. “I did hear about that, that’s really nice.” And she means it. While she never would have personally needed it, she had a friend in middle school who spent a few days with her because their parents reacted badly to their coming out. And Evie knows not everyone has a friend they can stay with.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” Henry says, and there’s a beat of silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, well, I’ll let you eat! Enjoy the French toast, and let me know if I can get you anything else!” Evie says with as much cheer as she can muster, and then quickly walks off to her other tables.</p><p> </p><p>The next twenty minutes pass in a blur of taking orders and serving food, and soon Henry is finished eating. She clears his plate and then heads to print his bill.</p><p> </p><p>“Here you go,” Evie says, handing Henry the check. He pulls out his wallet and carefully counts out the $15.20 that he owes. He hands it to her and slips his wallet back into his pocket. She stares at him. Yes, maybe she hadn’t been the greatest waitress, but this man is insanely rich. And while she does know that rich people are often the worst tippers, Henry did seem like a nice guy. She realizes she’s still standing there and should probably thank him and walk away, but he speaks first.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, do you need something else?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed, and it occurs to her that tipping is an American thing. But she can’t exactly tell a prince he should give her more money. She shakes her head mutely and turns to go, sticking the money in her apron. “Wait!” Henry exclaims, and Evie spins back around. “I’m supposed to tip you! I’m so sorry, we don’t do that in England, you should have said something!” He pulls his wallet back out and grabs a wad of cash, pressing it into her hands. Evie’s eyes widen as she looks over what he’s given her. </p><p> </p><p>“This is . . .” she starts. “This is way too much, a tip is like 20% or less, this is like 500%? Or more, I don’t do math, but. . .” Evie trails off, wondering why she didn’t just shut up and take the $200 Henry had handed her. She’s pretty sure he won’t miss it, and god knows she could use it. But it’s probably not right to take advantage of an oblivious British person, even if he is a prince, so she tries to hand it back. Henry’s lips quirk up in a smile. Instead of taking it, he presses an additional $100 bill into her hands. “I--I can’t possibly take this, I--”</p><p> </p><p>Henry stands up. “Thanks for the French toast, Evie, it was delicious. Have a great rest of your night!” And he’s gone before she can get out another word. Beck is on her in an instant.</p><p> </p><p>“What just happened?” Beck demands, and Evie fans out her $300 tip in response. “Holy crap,” Beck mutters. “You lucky little shit.” Evie lets out a breathless laugh. She thinks she’s delirious, and she’s not sure this isn’t a dream. Maybe she fell asleep in the kitchen and she’s about to be woken up and fired. She pinches her arm with the hand not holding the cash. Nothing happens.</p><p> </p><p>Beck herds her back to the kitchen, and she feels giddy as she sticks the money in her bag. It’s 8:00, and it’s still been a ridiculously long day, but one thing’s for sure. She’s very glad she decided not to call in sick after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Evie wants to cry. She’s just spent the better part of an hour stacking up a display of Cheez-Its in the shape of a small house. She’s not sure exactly why her boss found that necessary, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t kind of proud of the way it turned out.  And then some idiot lost control of his cart and rammed it into the corner, and now the boxes are all over the floor. The man responsible had immediately let go of the cart and run away, without so much as an apology. It’s 8:00 AM on a Monday, and this is already shaping up to be a terrible week. Blinking back tears, she pushes the entire pile to the side to clear off her building space and crouches down to pick up the first box. When she moves to place it, she finds that a different man has crouched down next to her, collecting an armful of boxes. He’s facing away, and she notes his curly brown hair. Then he turns around, and Evie nearly falls over in shock. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alex Claremont-Diaz. </span>
  </em>
  <span>How the hell does this keep happening to her?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi,” he says with a smile. “I can’t believe that guy just ran off like that. Some people are so rude. I’m Alex.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I- I know,” Evie manages.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” he says. “Well, let’s get this cleaned up.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Evie stares at him, struggling to form words. “It’s fine, I got it, you really don’t need to do that. This is what they’re paying me for.” She forces a smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not paying you enough, I’d imagine,” Alex says. He stacks a few more Cheez-It boxes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Evie opens her mouth to protest, but Alex cuts her off. “I’m very stubborn. You’re not going to convince me to leave.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Evie swallows. “Thank you.” The work goes much quicker this time, now that there’s two of them. A couple times their hands accidentally touch as they go to straighten a box, and Evie panics that a secret service agent is going to jump out of nowhere and arrest her. They’ve got to be around here somewhere. Suddenly curious, she glances around and spots a burly man about ten feet away, watching them closely. She quickly turns back to her work.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She debates mentioning her interaction with Henry, but decides against it. What would she say? </span>
  <em>
    <span>By the way, Alex, your boyfriend tipped me $300 for a $15 meal the other day. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She’s not really sure where that conversation would go, so she says nothing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This was a house, right?” Alex says once they’ve built the base up a few layers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep,” Evie says. “Nothing says ‘Buy Me’ like a house made of Cheez-its.” Alex laughs, and Evie feels incredibly pleased with herself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, well, you’re in charge. Let me know if I put anything in the wrong place.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Evie nods, unsure if she’d actually feel comfortable correcting Alex. But a few minutes later when he puts a box in a place that physically pains her, she reaches out and moves it. He smiles and follows her lead, and something about him just puts her at ease. Soon they’re placing the finishing touches on her design, except that this time she came out with seven extra boxes. And try as she might, she just can’t find a good place to add them in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Forget it, it looks good as is,” Alex says. “I’ll just buy them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She looks over. “No, you definitely don’t need to do that! You didn’t need to do any of this, but don’t just buy seven boxes of Cheez-Its that you don’t want.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, I’m on a mission to introduce my boyfriend to all the American snack food. British food just isn’t the same.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Evie is distracted for a moment by how weird it is to hear this man casually refer to his boyfriend, who she knows is a prince. But to Alex, Henry is just Henry. She smiles.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t say I have much experience with British snack food, but I am a fan of Cheez-Its. Anyway, thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles, putting the leftover boxes into his basket. “Have a great day—” he looks down at her nametag. “Evie.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She can’t help but smile back. “You too. And tell Henry that Evie says hi,” she adds as an afterthought. Alex laughs, no doubt hearing that as a joke. She wonders what the chances are of him actually telling Henry, but it doesn’t matter. Alex gives her one last wave before heading off down an aisle, and she lets herself stare after him for a moment longer before getting back to work.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi! Thanks for all the comments so far. Here's chapter three. Chapter four is going to be a few days longer, but I'm hoping to have it out soon. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s three weeks until Henry makes another appearance at Myrna’s. This time, he’s not alone. Evie walks out of the kitchen balancing four plates of food, sees Henry sitting at the same little table by the window with none other than Alex Claremont-Diaz, and nearly drops the food. She hands it off quickly to the customers who ordered it and heads over to greet Alex and Henry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry smiles as she approaches, but Alex’s eyes widen in surprise. “<em> Evie? </em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry’s head swivels to look at him. “You know her?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“She’s the one from the grocery store who I told you about! With the Cheez-Its! You know her too?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“She was my waitress last time I was here,” Henry tells Alex. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex looks back at Evie with wide eyes. “So when you told me to tell Henry that Evie says hi…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She blushes. “Yeah.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You should have told me! What a crazy coincidence.” Alex pauses. “Wait, you work here and there?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Evie bites her lip. Working two jobs is probably not something people like them have ever had to think about. “Tuition is expensive. And so is rent.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re in school too? That’s a busy schedule,” Alex says, shooting Henry a glance. She’s starting to feel uncomfortable.  Alex and Henry both seem nice, but she doesn’t love them picking apart her life. She does what she has to do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Evie forces a smile. “Yeah. It is what it is. Anyway, what can I get you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They glance at each other again, and her stomach twists.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll have the French toast again; it was delicious. And a cup of tea. Earl Grey,” he adds with a smile, and she relaxes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And I’ll have a BLT,” Alex says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Coming right up,” Evie says, heading back to the kitchen to put the order in. But when she glances over her shoulder as she walks through the door, they’re leaning across the table and whispering about something.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She does her best to ignore them as she tends to her other tables, and then she has to deliver their food. She puts it down quickly and turns to go, but Alex starts talking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you studying?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At least it’s not another question about money. She’s always happy to talk about her art. “I’m doing photography at Pratt. And I’m minoring in business. This is my last semester, and then I’m hoping to be a freelance photographer. I mainly do portraits.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s really cool,” Alex says, and Henry nods. “And congrats on being so close to graduating!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks,” Evie says with a smile. “I’ll leave you to your meal.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait!” Henry says, pulling out his phone and tapping a few buttons. “Will you take a picture of us?” Surprised, Evie takes the phone he’s holding out. The camera is already pulled up and she takes a few steps back, lining up the shot. She directs them to reposition a bit and snaps a few photos. Henry swipes through them and smiles at her. “Thanks!” She smiles back and heads off to her next table.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When they’ve finished their meal and Evie has cleared away the plates, she returns with the bill. She hands it to Henry, unsure how this is going to go down today. She tries to school her face, hoping she doesn’t look expectant. She’s also not sure if Henry told Alex about his last experience here. Henry hands over a credit card, which surprises her, but she thanks him and goes to run it through the machine. When she returns the card, Henry has a few bills in his hand, but she can’t tell what they are. He puts them down on the table and stands up to leave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks for a great meal, Evie<span>—</span>” Henry starts, but Alex interrupts, staring down at the cash.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Babe, do you have any idea how tipping works? It’s usually like 20%, and this is $50.” Significantly less than last time, but still an insane amount.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, I didn’t realize,” Henry says, and he looks back at Evie and winks. Evie’s heart races as her face heats up. Does she have an inside joke with a prince?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex laughs. “You’re a horrible liar. Bye, Evie! I’m sure we’ll be back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bye,” she says with a smile, and Alex and Henry leave hand in hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>…………………………</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A week later, Evie logs into the billing portal for Pratt. She’s on a payment plan that lets her split up each semester’s tuition over four separate payments. She supposes it’s better than having to summon $20k in one go, but she still needs a lot of loans to cover it. Today is her second to last payment, and she’s ready to transfer $5,000 from her bank account to Pratt. She logs in and pulls up her statement, and then she freezes. It should read $10,000. It reads $0. She quickly pulls up her payment history, which claims that she paid the full 10k a couple days ago. Heart pounding, she grabs her phone and dials Student Financial Services. She gives the woman her name and explains her situation. The woman tells her to hold while she pulls up her account. Evie waits, not daring to let herself hope.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Looks like someone made a payment on Wednesday,” the woman says. “You’re covered for the rest of the year.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you sure?” Evie asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Very sure,” the woman says. “Do you want me to see if anyone else in the office knows anything?” Evie tells her that would be great and then waits while she asks around. “Evie, it sounds like someone made an anonymous contribution to your account.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Evie is shaking as she thanks the woman and hangs up. She realizes that her cheeks are damp, and a laugh bubbles up out of her throat. An enormous weight has been lifted off her shoulders.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She has no idea how to get in contact with them, and she desperately needs to say thank you. But then she has an idea, and before she can fully think it through she’s pulling her laptop back toward her and googling “Prince Henry Brooklyn LGBT Shelter.” They have a website, and there’s a “donate” button in the corner that she clicks on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She hovers her mouse over the “amount” box for a moment, considering. She was ready to spend $5,000 today, and now she gets to keep that twice over. But she still has all her old loans to pay off, and rent is still expensive. Before she can talk herself up or down, she types $1,000 into the box. There’s an optional spot for comments. She doesn’t know for sure if Henry will actually see this, but she decides to just assume he will. She writes a long paragraph and then decides she hates it. They know the difference they’ve made in her life, and her donation really says it all. So in the end, she settles on the simplest option.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Thank you. - Evie </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And we've reached the end! This chapter includes some art that I for some reason decided I absolutely had to draw even though I literally never do art, so enjoy that I guess. This chapter also has more Alex and Henry content than the others and is basically just pure fluff. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been a couple years since Evie graduated from Pratt, and she’s been working as a photographer ever since. Business isn’t exactly booming, and rent might be tight sometimes, but she manages to stay afloat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She hasn’t seen Alex or Henry again, although Beck told her they’d been back to Myrna’s a few times (and had always tipped very generously). It never overlapped with her shift, and she hasn’t worked there or at the supermarket since her photography got off the ground.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Evie opens Instagram and switches over to her work account, @photosbyevie, to go through her DMs. She has a handful of reactions to photos from her story earlier. She scrolls farther and one message catches her eye. From @princehenry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Hi Evie! Hope you’re doing well! Alex and I got engaged a couple months ago, and we’re having a small engagement party with just our close friends and family in addition to the whole big royal wedding. We needed a photographer and thought of you. Let us know if you’re interested! </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Evie stares at the text. She’d seen the news of their engagement obviously, and she was very happy for them. But she never expected that their paths would cross again. Honestly, she’s almost surprised they even remember her. She can’t really believe she’s living a life where she gets a DM from a prince.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With shaking fingers, she types out a response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Congratulations on the engagement!  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> I’d love to be your photographer.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> When’s the big day? </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Almost immediately, the three dots appear to signify that Henry is typing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Great! The actual wedding isn’t for quite a while, we  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> don’t even have a date yet. But our engagement party </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> is in a little over a month. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Sounds good, would you like to meet to go over everything? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> I don’t have a studio but I’m happy to meet wherever,  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> or videochat, or whatever works for you. </em>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Do you want to meet at our place? </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Evie is glad this conversation is happening over text so he can’t see how flustered she is at being invited over to their house. But it’s not like she’s going to say no. She types out a response, and they set up a time for the next day<em> . </em> That gives Evie a little under 24 hours to completely overthink everything from her outfit to what she should say about what they did for her to how casual versus businesslike she’s supposed to be. Yes, she’s met each of them twice before, but those were unplanned and she never had time to think about anything she was doing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She settles on a dark purple blazer over a black and white shirt along with dark jeans. She decides she should bring up their massive contribution to her tuition when she first arrives, otherwise it’s going to feel like the elephant in the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She smooths down her hair and checks and rechecks her lipstick as the Uber pulls up to their brownstone. She rings the doorbell, trying to will her heart to slow down. Alex answers the door, Henry a few paces behind him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi,” she begins. “It’s really nice to see you again, and congratulations again on your engagement.” Alex glances at Henry and smiles softly, and it's so full of love that it almost hurts to look at.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you,” he says, turning back to her. “Come on in.” She follows him into the house and into a living room. He gestures toward a soft looking chair and then he and Henry settle down on the couch. “So how are you? How have the last few years been?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m doing well. I’m–well, first I need to thank you both. What you did was incredible, and so generous, and meant so much, and–”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re welcome,” Henry cuts her off. “And thank <em> you </em>for making that donation. You didn’t owe us anything in return, but I really appreciate it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course,” Evie says. “The work you’re doing at the shelter is amazing, and I’m glad to have paid it forward a little bit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex smiles. “It definitely makes a difference.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Evie smiles back, and then she tries to switch into business mode. “Anyway, thanks for thinking of me to be your photographer. Can you tell me more about the event?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> “Yeah,” Alex says. “We have to have a big fancy royal wedding with all the foreign diplomats and traditions and things, and I’m not complaining about that because it’s important to have this public and send a message to the world that this is okay, you know? But we also wanted to do something a little more private, just with the people closest to us, so we’re holding an engagement party.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That makes sense,” Evie says. “I can’t imagine being in the spotlight all the time. I much prefer to be the one behind the camera.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry nods. “Being recognized everywhere I go gets exhausting. And having everyone so flustered to meet me. I’m just me,” he says, and Evie is starting to see that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I like ‘just you’ a whole lot,” Alex says, and Henry rolls his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’d like to apologize for being one of the flustered people meeting you. Honestly, I’m still working on not being that person.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No need to apologize, we get it. But just so you realize, you’re going to meet a lot of other famous people at this party. Like my mom, for example,” Alex says, and Evie tries very hard to keep her face neutral. Somehow the fact that the president would most definitely be at this party had not occurred to her over the previous day of overthinking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She nods. “Of course.” Alex has a small smile on his face, and she knows he can see right through her. “So anyway, what exactly are you looking for? Do you want video at all or just photos? A montage? Any specific requests?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think we’ll stick to just photos. And nothing in particular, just take lots of pictures of everyone same as you would at any other party you’re working. We will have to have you sign some forms, though. It’s just security stuff; it won’t change anything about the day of.” Henry turns to Alex. “Can you think of anything else?”<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“Actually, H, what do you think about a montage? We can’t do something like that at the official wedding, but since it's just our friends there it might be fun to show a video of our whole relationship.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry appears to consider this for a moment before he nods. “Yeah. That sounds great.” He turns back to Evie. “And you can make that if we send you the photos?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Definitely,” she says. “You send pictures, and let me know if you have music preferences or if you want the photos in any particular order, and I can put it together and bring a screen and projector.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sounds great,” Alex says. They iron out a couple more details about location and pricing, Henry and Alex tell her they’ll send the paperwork and the photos to her in the next couple days, and she heads back home.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry emails her the forms the next day. He apologizes for how much there is to sign, and it does feel a bit excessive, but she skims them, signs, and emails them back. It’s another couple days until the email arrives with all the pictures for their montage, and she gets to work immediately.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She flips through the photos, picture after picture of Alex and Henry smiling, laughing, kissing, and just so in love in a hundred different places, some with their friends and family and some just the two of them. A few she recognizes from their social media but the majority she’s never seen before. There they are in a bar with people she recognizes as June Claremont-Diaz, Nora Holleran, Percy Okonjo, and Princess Beatrice. It hits her again that she’s going to meet all these people, and she tries to shove that thought to the side. There they are with President Claremont and the First Gentleman in the White House garden. There they are right after moving into the brownstone, surrounded by half-open boxes. Alex is caught mid-laugh and Henry has his arms wrapped around Alex’s waist. She clicks to the next and finds herself staring at the familiar picture she took of them together at the cafe a couple years ago. She’s taken back to the moment when she first saw Henry’s post, the thrill that had jolted through her as she read the caption: “Thanks to our lovely waitress for the photo and the delicious meal!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She scrolls through the rest of the photos and then begins sorting them into her video software. She has a lot of fun putting together montages for people, and this one is especially exciting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-----------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Evie tries to control her nerves as she climbs out of the car. A couple of staff greet her and help her unload the projector and screen. She slings her camera around her neck and smooths down her black dress. The party is at a beautiful rooftop venue that she’s worked at a couple times before. The guests aren’t set to arrive for another half hour, and she follows the staff up the stairs to where the finishing touches are being put on the set up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Evie!” a familiar voice yells, and she turns to see Alex running over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi!” she says, surprised that she actually doesn’t feel starstruck this time. “How’s everything going?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No issues so far, so hopefully it’ll stay that way. Let me find Henry and we can do some shots of the two of us before everyone gets here?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Perfect,” Evie says. “I’ll be here.” Alex runs off, and Evie sets up the projector and screen to be ready for later. Alex returns a few minutes later with Henry in tow, and she brings them to the edge of the roof so the city stretches out in the background. The sun is setting, painting the sky in vibrant colors. They pose for a number of photos, looking radiantly happy together. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When they’re finished, Evie walks around and photographs the setup until the guests begin to arrive. She’s promised herself she’s going to be professional about this, and not freak out about meeting these people, but she can’t control the way her heartbeat speeds up when she sees the president walk onto the roof. She reminds herself that she’s not here to talk with or get to know any of these people. She’s here to take pictures of them. And she knows how to fade into the background and document an event. Except she’s not very far into the background, because Alex and Henry keep waving her over to take pictures of them with various arrays of people, some of whom she recognizes and some of whom she doesn’t. At one point Alex notices her eying a tray of mini hot dogs and nudges her with a laugh. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know, you are allowed to eat.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She smiles at him as she reaches for a hot dog. “Oh. Right, thanks.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A man she recognizes as Percy Okonjo waves her over for some pictures with June and Nora. They make faces at the camera, laughing and smiling, and then Pez and June disappear back into the crowd. Nora hangs back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So you seem kinda friendly with Alex and Henry. Do you know them from somewhere? You go to NYU?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nora is the first person besides Alex and Henry to say anything to Evie that is unrelated to taking pictures of them, so she’s caught a little off guard. She also doesn’t really feel like getting into everything, nor does she know if she’s even allowed to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, we had to meet to discuss the plans for today,” Evie attempts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right,” Nora says. “You also seem very chill around all these famous people. You do celebrity parties a lot?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I seem chill?” Evie blurts out before she can think better of it. “Wow, thank you, I’m glad I come across that way, because I am anything but chill. I’ve never done a celebrity party before.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I mean, you’re definitely seeming less chill right now. But you’ve been chatting with Alex and Henry all night, and Alex just bumped you with his hip, and I think most girls would have just about fainted at that. Not that I really see the appeal, Alex is a dork. Can’t believe I ever dated him. But anyway, you seemed fine with that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, Alex and Henry are really nice. I’ve definitely been panicking the few times I had to photograph President Claremont.” She pauses. “Don’t tell Alex I said that. I promised I’d be cool with everything.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nora raises her eyebrows. “Ellen is really nice too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sure she is,” Evie rushes to say, hoping someone waves her over so she has an excuse to escape this conversation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You definitely know them from somewhere,” Nora continues. “Don’t worry, I won’t interrogate you. They probably made you sign an NDA and threatened to take your firstborn. I’ll interrogate them instead. Anyway, I’d better get back to Pez and June. Nice meeting you!” She runs off, leaving Evie reeling. She eats a couple more hot dogs and tries to lose herself in the photography until it’s time for the montage. Someone hands Alex a microphone and he addresses their guests as Evie hooks up her laptop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi guys, thanks so much for coming to celebrate with us. We wanted to do a little photo montage here because a lot of these pictures would not be approved to show at the royal wedding and also because I like looking at pictures of myself. So, anyway, enjoy, and you’re all in it at least once so hopefully you won’t find it too boring. Hit it, Evie.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She pushes play and steps back, and everyone gathers around to watch. Evie’s seen the montage about a hundred times by now, so she watches Alex and Henry watch it instead. They’d insisted that they wanted it to be a surprise and that they trusted her, so this is the first time they’re seeing it. Henry is curled into Alex’s side, and the light is dancing across their skin. They look so unbelievably happy it warms her heart. She knows they’ve been through a lot to get here, and she couldn’t be happier for them. They laugh at the funnier pictures, and Alex squeezes Henry closer, and maybe it’s a trick of the light, but she thinks she sees tears glistening in their eyes. “Your Song” plays softly out of the speakers. There’s a few quiet exclamations of “That’s me!” and “I remember that day!” from the crowd, but for the most part their guests watch in silence. When it ends, no one moves for a few moments. And then June goes to give her brother and his fiancé a hug, and President Claremont follows, and then they’re surrounded by their friends. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s a little while until the crowd around them dies down, but when it does the two of them approach her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That was beautiful,” Henry says. “Thank you so much.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She smiles. “Well, it’s all you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And you put it together. So thanks,” Alex says. He gives her a quick hug before he’s pulled off again by friends, and so much for her finally being cool around them, because her face is now bright red.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually the guests all head home. Alex and Henry thank her again and she promises to send them the pictures within the next couple days. She collects all her stuff and calls for an Uber, and half an hour later she’s back in her apartment. It was definitely the most interesting event she’s ever worked at, and probably the most fun too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She compiles all of the photos and sends them to Alex and Henry the next day, and a few hours later she opens Instagram to see that she’s been tagged in a post. She’s also gained 5,000 new followers. That’s when she realizes that she’s just gotten a celebrity endorsement and her business is going to blow up. She wonders if that was part of why they hired her, one last way for them to turn her life around. She’s eternally grateful. And she hopes with all her heart that they have a long, happy life together. They deserve it.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Leave a comment and let me know what you think!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>